Feathers
by WipeOut95
Summary: Max wakes up in the hospital with amnesia, to Fang, an FBI agent, sitting next to her bed. He rescued her out of a lake after she tried to commit suicide, but why did Max want to stop living? Who is she, and what is her past? FAX
1. Chapter 1

Max's POV

First, there was the ocean. I was floating in it, suspended in the cool blue waters, stranded in the silence and vastness. Gray clouds hovered above me, and from the sad sky a feather fell and brushed against my cheek with the lightest touch.

Then, there was the darkness, engulfing me in its mystery. I was embodied in fear and loneliness. I was unreachable, untouchable, unwanted. I was drifting away. This was for the better. I shouldn't live.

But sometimes the world shows no mercy.

One minute, I was submerged in darkness, and the next, I was staring at a spotted tiled ceiling with an incessant beeping sound right next to my ear. My vision was blurry, and I blinked to clear away the fog. Where was I?

"You're awake," someone spoke softly as if careful not to alarm me, even though I was way too sedated to feel anything except sleepy.

The deep voice belonged to the dark haired, olive-skinned man sitting next to the bed, leaning towards me slightly with his elbows against his knees. His eyes were so dark that I thought I might get lost in them.

I nodded, afraid that my sore throat wouldn't let me speak.

"Everything's alright. You're safe now, at a hospital. Do you want some water?" he poured from a pitcher into a plastic cup. I watched the deliberate movements of his strong hands as he handed the cup to me, but I didn't move. Man I was so tired. Why was I at a hospital?

The man cleared his throat and set the cup back down on the bedside table. "Alright then. Well, uh, how are you feeling?"

My brain felt completely fried. I wasn't scared of him, but I was confused. Still, I couldn't bring myself to care enough to ask any questions. I just wanted to sleep.

"Tired," I responded in a whisper before I closed my eyes again.

Fang's POV

Well that went well. Way to make a first impression.

She watched me with sleepy eyes that were half-glassy, as if she wasn't completely alive. Then she was gone again.

I was late for work and very tempted to leave, yet something about this girl tugged at me, pressing me to stay. For the past 3 hours, all I've done is watch her sleep. I memorized every line on her delicate face, every strand of long brown hair against the white linen waiting for her to wake up.

She looked so fragile in her unconscious state. When I first dragged her out of that frozen lake, I thought maybe she was already dead. I called the ambulance anyways, and I rode with her to the hospital as they tried to revive her. When finally a single breath escaped her blue lips, her eyes shot open and met mine.

The chocolate brown orbs looked utterly terrified, and so cold that I jumped back. Before anyone could react to her waking, she grabbed my soaked shirt with surprising strength and tore the oxygen mask off.

"Please," she begged as her tiny frame shook. "Just let me go."

Within seconds, before I could respond, she was out again. I sat there frozen, barely able to process what had just happened. I was scared for her. I didn't even know I was capable of feeling scared for someone else.

When we finally arrived at the hospital, her thin fingers were still clenching my shirt.

Max's POV

Imagine my surprise when I woke up again, this time much more clear-minded, and saw the same man asleep with his head on the bed.

Light flowed through the curtains, so I knew it was daylight. He must've been here all night. I had no idea who he was, but I felt grateful. I ran my fingers through his hair lightly, and he woke up.

He leaned back against the chair, stretched, and yawned, and I sat up and mimicked him. My muscles were sore from sleeping so much.

The man watched my movements and one side of his mouth twitched into a small, gentle smile.

"Um… good morning," I said quietly, aware that I looked like a mess and that my breath probably smelled like rotten fish.

"You seem like you're feeling better." He handed me the cup of water again, and this time, I took it and drank.

"Have you been here all night?"

He nodded, and I smiled, hoping he could see my gratefulness. Then, his eyebrows furrowed, and the mood suddenly wasn't so light.

"Do you know who I am?"

I shook my head. "I was about to ask."

"My name's Fang. I was the one who pulled you out of that lake."

My heart thud against my chest, and my ears felt like they were full of blood. My vision grew distorted, as if I was seeing him through a tunnel. "What lake?"

"Do you remember anything?" he continued. That's when it hit me, like a ton of bricks and a grand piano. I didn't remember anything. At all. Except that I was Maximum Ride.

I didn't know how old I was. I couldn't even remember what I looked like. I tried to think back, but there were no memories. Just emptiness.

I could feel myself hyperventilating, and then suddenly, Fang was sitting on the bed with his hands on my shoulders steadying me.

"Alright, just breathe. You're ok. Do I need to call a nurse?"

His hands were reaching for the call button, but I stopped him. "Don't," I ground out between breaths. "Just… Can I get more water please?"

The cool liquid slithered down my throat, and calmed the anxiety that settled in the pit of my stomach. "My name. That's all I remember."

"Ok," he nodded reassuringly. "That's ok. We can start with that. What's your name?"

"Maximum Ride."

"I like it. I think it suits you."

As I focused on his steady gaze, my heart rate slowly returned to normal. "What's happening to me?"

Fang poured me another cup of water. "I saw you at the park, in the middle of the night. You were standing on the bridge over the lake, in a torn up white night gown."

"Wow this is very specific."

"Well, this was last night," Fang sighed. "Anyways, you jumped. Actually, you kind of just fell in, like you'd given up. You just let yourself go." He spoke smoothly and watched for my reaction. Hearing him tell me about myself was like listening to a children's story. None of it seemed realistic or possible. Did I really try to kill myself?

When he was sure I wouldn't start having another panic attack, he continued. "When I pulled you out, you were barely breathing. The doctors said you died once and that it was a miracle you lived."

"Doesn't feel so much like a miracle."

"He didn't predict amnesia. I should probably go get him."

Fang made a motion to leave, but I clung to his arm. He glanced down at my hand as if shocked that I was capable of making human contact.

"Where am I supposed to go?"

Fang's POV

Maximum Ride.

Such an empowering name, and she wore it well. Past the stage of panic, she didn't show fear. Even when I told her she had tried to kill herself, she just sat there and took it. She was a completely different person from the girl in the ambulance begging me to let her die. She was beyond confusing.

As an FBI agent, I was taught to read people. That was part of training, but I couldn't read Maximum Ride at all. She was a cloud shrouded in mystery.

I left the curtains open so that she could look out the window while I searched for the doctor. He had mentioned nothing of brain damage and was unwilling to tell me much since I was unrelated.

"She's got amnesia," I told him in his office. "All she remembers is her name, Maximum Ride."

The doctor messed with his computer while I paced. Hospitals and white coats made me nervous. Nothing good ever happens here, and I learned to never trust a doctor. "She's not in the database. Are you sure that's her name?"

"That's what she told me. Are you positive? Under what circumstances would a person not be in any hospital database?"

"Anyone with a birth certificate must be. The delivery nurse signs the certificates and the babies have to get their initial immunity shots."

"Are you telling me that Maximum Ride doesn't exist? She made that name up? Maybe she's faking amnesia, making up the whole thing." I made my sarcasm extra venomous.

"That's not what I'm suggesting. I'm only telling you what the evidence is telling me."

"Why would she make up a name and not, I don't know, her whole identity?"

The doctor sighed and crossed his fingers over his desk. "Agent, I suggest you search the database available to you from your work, as it's likely more extensive than this one. Until then, I have no emergency contacts listed for this girl, and as far as the hospital is concerned, she's a Jane Doe."

I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration. Who the hell was she? What was I supposed to do with her? Just ditch her here? As if I could.

"Well what can you tell me about her? Now that we know she has no reachable family member, can you at least give me a run down of her injuries? Other than the bruises?"

He flipped open a binder and reviewed her file. I could see the wheels turning in his head as he frowned.

"What is it?" I asked impatiently, making a move to snatch the binder away. He closed it before I could.

"Do you remember seeing bruises on her wrists when you were in there?"

I shook my head. Her arms had been smooth as silk. "Why?"

"According to the initial report, which was written by the EMT, she came in with bruises and rope burn on her wrists, ankles, and neck. No indication of a head injury, not even a concussion. The amnesia must be from trauma, maybe from the lack of oxygen to the brain, but she didn't flat-line for very long. Bruises were found across her stomach as well as lacerations on her back, possibly from a whip? Lastly…" he hesitated.

"Tell me," I urged. "She has no one else."

"Semen." He didn't need to say anymore. I growled and fought the urge to knock the plant on his desk over. "She's not pregnant though. Is there anyway the FBI would be willing to investigate this?"

I rubbed my forehead roughly. "I doubt it. We handle murders more than we do rape cases, but I'll see what we can do. Anything else?"

He shrugged. "She's probably in her early 20s, and it's a bit alarming to know that her bruises healed overnight, but I suppose that's not entirely impossible. She's clearly been to hell and back, so until there's further information, I would let her memories return naturally, and Maximum Ride is her name. If that's what she wants to be identified as, then so be it."

I glanced at my watch. The chief was going to chew my ass out. "I'm late for work. When can she be discharged?"

"Tomorrow. I'll do a final examination, and then she'll be free to go. The hospital won't keep her for more than 2 nights without any background information or insurance."

"But where is she supposed to go?"

The doctor's gaze held mine steadily. I knew what he was thinking, but saying it would be stepping over the line as a physician.

My cell phone vibrated in my back pocket. "Damn it, I don't have time for this. Let her know I'll come back tomorrow, alright?"

The doctor nodded, but I still hesitated. Maybe I should stay, but then the phone rang again. I snatched my jacket from the back of the couch and slammed the door shut behind me.


	2. Chapter 2

Max's POV

When the door opened, and a person not wearing white finally walked in, I jumped up with joy. I couldn't even suppress the smile on my face.

"Fang," I greeted happily. "You're back."

The last time I'd seen him, he had dark circles under his eyes and his clothes were still drenched in lake water. I was glad to see that he'd gotten some rest, and now he wore a clean white collared shirt with a tie.

"Didn't the doctor tell you I was visiting?"

I nodded. "But I wasn't sure. He said I could leave today, and that I should ask you where to go."

He eyed the green bag that stood out against the white of the bed. The contents consisted of everything I came in the hospital with, which was just the ragged, shredded nightgown.

"Are you ready to go? Don't you want to change?"

I smirked. "This," I pointed at the bag, "This is nothing but pieces of what used to be a nightgown."

Fang almost chuckled, but he spared only a half-smile. "I thought that might be a problem, but I came prepared." I hadn't noticed that he was carrying a backpack. He set it down on the bed.

"A t-shirt," he listed as he took out the items. "This one is actually mine, so it may be a little big. It's just temporary until we can get you something that fits. PJ pants, and shoes. A toothbrush. Toothpaste, and a brush. Did I miss anything?"

I smiled at this thoughtfulness. "Thank you, Fang." What would I do without him here? Where would I be if it wasn't Fang who had fished me out of that lake? I didn't even want to think about it.

"I'll let you change, and then we can go," he turned and took a step towards the door, but I stopped him before he could go any farther.

Fang's POV

"Fang, wait," Max said almost desperately. I stopped and faced her. Her eyes were pleading, but I didn't know what she wanted. I was about to turn around and go, when suddenly, Max was off the bed and had her arms around my neck. I froze.

Warmth. She was practically glowing with it.

If she hadn't just leapt off her hospital bed, I might've shoved her away, but now I was glad I didn't because her warmth seeped into me as if her body was thawing ice, and I felt comforted.

"Sorry," she grinned as she pulled back. "I'm just really glad that it was you who found me."

The funny thing was, I was too.

Max's POV

Changing took longer than I expected, mostly because I spent 20 minutes in the mirror pulling and tugging at my face. The dirty-blonde hair cascaded in tangled waves down to my waist. The chocolate brown eyes reflected the light against the glass. I looked wild.

When I showered, I traced over every little scar that marred the smooth skin. I must have been a lot of fights, because there were quite a few, but nothing was familiar. I felt trapped in a stranger's body.

By the time I finished, Fang was sitting on the bed waiting with his elbows leaned against his knees. His eyes were facing away from me towards the door as he was lost in thought, but he still wore a cold-stone expression. From the past couple of times I'd seen him, I realized that his brows were always a bit furrowed, and he always looked serious.

I signed the papers at the nurse's desk, but when she asked Fang to sign too, I frowned. He was taking full responsibility for me, like I was some lost puppy who still needed to be potty trained, but as soon as the autumn air hit me, all those worries were swept away.

The crispy leaves rustled, and the fall colors were bright. Everything was so clear that I believed I could pick out which leaf was crumbling and hear the ants marching through the cracks on the sidewalk.

When I looked to the sky, a jolt ran through me as if I'd just been injected with adrenaline. I wanted to run and leap and… fly.

My thoughts were interrupted when Fang grabbed my arm and led me to his car. "I don't remember everything being so clear," I told him.

"You don't remember anything," he pointed out. "Probably not even riding in a car."

He was right. "I don't know if I've ever ridden in a car. My head's a vacuum, completely empty, like someone tossed the Maximum Ride's history file into the shredder."

From the car window, I watched the world fly by. First, there was the city, with the bustling people and the honking cars. Then, there was a mass of trees, which opened up to the suburbs, with the houses lined up against each other and kids riding bikes in the front lawn.

"I'll roll the windows down, if you promise not to stick your tongue out the car," Fang joked. The wind rushed at me, making my hair fly chaotically around my face. I laughed when I saw myself in the rearview mirror. I stuck my arm out and waved at the kids and their parents, and my heart leaped with joy when they waved and smiled back.

When Fang finally pulled up to a driveway, I gasped. "You live here?" I asked with wonder. The house was beautiful, stone with a brick base, and rose bushes leading to the front door.

"Not me. A friend." He responded as he rang the doorbell. I stood behind him admiring the painted vines on the window panels lining the door. Soon enough, the door swung open, and a dark girl with a smiling face greeted us.

"Took you long enough. Did you get lost? Iggy's in the back making dinner." She kissed Fang on the cheek, a tiny little peck. "You must be Max," she turned to me and smiled, then wrapped her arms around me and gave a tight squeeze. "I'm Nudge, an old friend of Fang's." I smiled back. She was friendly.

Nudge had an arm interlocked around mine as she led me to their living room. "Do you want something to drink?" I shook my head politely as I took a seat on the leather couch. Fang plopped down on a lounger. "I'll take a beer."

Nudge gave him a wary look, but fetched him one anyways. "I'm surprised your liver still works with all the drinking, you and Iggy both."

"Nudge is a nurse," Fang told me. "She also talks a lot."

As incredibly rude as that was, Nudge swatted a hand at him and turned to me. "I do tend to go on rants, so just shut me up whenever. Fang on the other hand, may seem like a hard-ass, but he's not all that bad after you've known him for over 10 years."

"Stop it Nudge, you're scaring her," a new voice interrupted. A tall strawberry-blonde was standing against the arch leading from the kitchen to the living room.

"Iggy, thank god," Fang grumbled. Iggy chuckled and patted Fang's shoulder.

Then he faced me from where he stood, although his pale blue eyes weren't quite looking at me. "Max, right? I'm Iggy. Fang and I work together." He stuck out his hand, and I shook it. "I hope you're hungry because I made a week's worth of food."

Oh boy was I hungry. As soon as he said that, my stomach growled, and my mouth watered.

Iggy was a fantastic cook, a genius with ingredients, and I finished 2 servings before anyone had finished half of the first.

The three of them were obviously very close. They threw insulting jokes at each other and laughed, with the exception of Fang who would just smile or smirk. I felt extremely out of place. I wanted to speak up, but I had no idea what kind of a personality I had. Was I funny? Or as harsh as Fang? Maybe I was a good cook, like Iggy, and we could bond over that. I just didn't know.

When Iggy and Fang started talking about work, Nudge turned to me. She would open her mouth only to close it again, unaware of what to say. I understood the awkwardness, though. I wouldn't know the answers to anything she asked. What's your favorite TV show? No idea. Favorite music? All I've heard is the elevator music at the hospital. What about your favorite color? Have I even seen them all? It's definitely not white.

By the 5th serving, I was feeling rude, invading their house only to eat all their food. I had to say something. "I'm sorry, but I just have to ask. Iggy, why are you not a chef?"

Nudge actually lit up when I spoke, and I realized that I was taking a liking to her. "Iggy's blind," she answered casually. I suppressed a gasp.

"What?! How? How is that possible?"

Iggy was chuckling at my freak-out. "Restaurants don't favor blind people, I guess. I'm actually pretty adaptable though. I can sense where most things are."

"So they won't let you play with fire, but they'll let you play with guns," I said amused.

"That's about the gist of it," Iggy nodded with another chuckle. "But what about you Max? What are you doing here? Fang told me I'd find out in person."

I looked to Fang. "I actually don't know why I'm here. He kind of left me out of the loop on this one."

"That makes 2 of us," Nudge added.

"Nudge, you are going to love me," Fang said as he wiped his mouth. "Max needs new clothes."

Nudge leapt to her feet in excitement and slammed her hands on the table. "Say no more, I'm on it. Come on, Max," she took my wrist and led me straight into the master bedroom before I could even react.

"Wow you are animated," I told her as she sat me down in front of her dresser.

She laughed. "I can be pretty hyper, but I really do love makeovers. You don't understand, this is like a Christmas present to me." Then she started on my hair, and I felt sorry for her that she had to handle the rat's nest atop my head. There was a lot of tugging and pulling, and at one point, she had her foot to the back of my chair.

"I bet it's not so much a Christmas present anymore," I joked embarrassed.

Nudge laughed. "Believe me I've had worse. Do you want me to curl it for you? Straighten it maybe? Oh, I've got a lipstick that would look amazing on you."

I watched myself in the mirror, observed the way my brows furrowed while I was thinking. I had only just begun getting used to seeing myself, I didn't want to change anything.

"Can you just cut my hair for me? I really don't want any makeup."

"Are you sure? It'll look really good on you. You're already so pretty, even a little can go a long way."

I smiled. "It looks gorgeous on you, but I think I'm good. If I can just control my hair and maybe get a few outfits, I'll be happy."

"You haven't even seen my closet yet," Nudge shrieked in excitement.

I laughed. "Oh god, should I be scared."

Nudge looked at me through the mirror. "Terrified."

Fang's POV

I was taking things step by step with Max. First, she needed to look like a normal woman. I would say eat like a normal person, but that probably wasn't possible. She had an appetite of a lion. Then, I'd figure out where she could stay. I considered dropping her off at a hotel, but a part of me was hesitant knowing she wasn't safe there.

"Say, Iggy, you wouldn't be willing to let Max stay with you for a while, would you?"

We were loading the dishwasher, and every once in a while we could hear laughter from the main bedroom.

"Are you kidding me? Nudge and I just got married. I don't think we're ready for a kid yet."

"She's not a kid, she's just lost."

Iggy sighed and wiped an arm across his forehead. "I like Max, and if she was just your sister or cousin or even a homeless, I'd say sure, but she has amnesia. You should know, as an FBI agent, that people with amnesia latch on to the first person they feel comfortable with."

I grabbed another two bottles of beer from the fridge and handed one to Iggy. "Damn it. How in the hell did I get myself into this anyways?"

He chuckled. "Is there really no family member you can contact at all? Did you try the office database?"

I nodded. "I've tried everything. I guess I don't have a choice, unless I ditch her in the streets."

"Well I know you and you know you and we both know you wouldn't do that." Iggy was spot on, and he knew it. I scowled, and he rewarded himself with a good gulp of beer.

Just then, Nudge leaped into the kitchen all jittery with excitement. Iggy wrapped an arm around her and kissed the top of her head.

"You guys are about to witness a miracle." She clapped her hands together. "Max! Come on!"

Iggy threw her a puzzled look when Max didn't respond. "Did you scare her off?"

Nudge rolled her eyes. "Max either you're coming in or I'm dragging you in."

There was a little groan, and then this perfectly normal 24-year old looking woman stepped into the kitchen. Nudge had trimmed her hair and tied it back into a ponytail and fit her in a dress with a cardigan over it.

Maximum Ride looked groomed, and I realized for some odd reason that I liked her better when she wasn't.

No one spoke, but Nudge was beaming with pride. "Come on, admit it. I did good."

Max shifted uncomfortably. "I think I've learned something new about myself," she began as she tugged on the hem of the dress. "I don't like dresses."

"She's kidding," Nudge added, and Max glared at her teasingly. I guess she was getting some of her own personality back.

"I'm really not, but thanks to Nudge, I'll have an entire year's worth of clothes."

"And thanks to Max, I only have ¾ of my closet to clean now."

Max smiled, and while she thanked Nudge who just couldn't stop beaming and hugging and fussing over every little strand of hair, Iggy leaned in towards me and whispered in my ear.

"It could be a lot worse, you know. You could've been stuck with someone a lot less attractive."

I jumped back nearly spilling the beer and wanting to punch him in the face. Sensing my reaction, he chuckled.

Ugh. Stupid blind guy, what did he know?

 _Thanks for reading!_


	3. Chapter 3

Fang's POV

I woke up to the alarming smell of smoke and leaped out of bed. As I rushed downstairs, the smoke alarms started going off, and there were pots and pans clanging against the marble counters.

"What the hell is going on?" I asked as I dove into the smoky kitchen.

"I'm sorry!" The room was so foggy that I couldn't even locate the voice. "I was trying to make breakfast!"

I climbed onto the countertop to reset the smoke alarm, turned on the fans, and opened the backdoor to air out the smoke.

With a sigh, I swung around to face Max, who stood there with a guilty look. "I'm really sorry," she apologized again and slowly set the pan down in the sink.

Max's POV

I stood in Fang's kitchen looking as innocent as I could and waited patiently for him to scold me. He had his arms crossed, but he was so damn hard to read that I couldn't tell if he was angry or not.

He walked over to the sink, and I moved out of his way. "You've got way too much oil in this. What were you trying to make?"

"Eggs," I responded pitifully.

Fang clicked his tongue in shame as he rinsed the pan, wiped the bottom, and set it back over the stove. "Grab me another couple?"

"Okay!" I exclaimed, happy to about to be fed. I was hungry as usual. "I'm sorry," I apologized again as I handed him the eggs. He cracked them straight into the pan, and I observed with my mouth watering.

"Stop apologizing. Is this why you asked where my cooking stuff was?"

I nodded sheepishly. "I didn't know if I knew how to cook, but I wanted to…" I trailed off embarrassed to continue.

"Wanted to?" Fang pressed as he scooped the eggs into two plates.

"Surprise you with breakfast? Well, surprise."

Fang didn't look amused.

"I thought I told you already. Just tell me what you need, and I'll take care of it for you." He carried the plates over to the island, and I followed. My stomach grumbled at the sight, and I realized I could also go for some bacon, some toast, maybe a couple of pancakes and sausages too.

Fang said my appetite was deceiving, but he was pretty deceiving himself because he was actually a pretty great cook, although he's no Iggy. For the past two nights I'd been around, he'd been super busy with work. I'd already be asleep by the time he came home, and he'd already be gone by the time I woke up, but he never forgot to leave me a delicious dinner in the fridge. I appreciated this, but of course it made me feel like a sitting duck waiting for someone to throw bread into the yard.

"But I don't want you to have to take care of me. I want to take care of myself, and I wanted to cook for you. It's your day off." I took a bite of the eggs. "By the way, delicious as usual."

"Why don't you take it easy? You only got back from the hospital a few days ago."

Two more bites, and I was done. Fang shook his head at me while I washed the plate. "I've done nothing for the past two days except take it easy." I finished washing his plate for him, set them back in the oak cabinet, and leaned in towards him on the island. "Plus, I really wanted to thank you. For everything."

My eyes met Fang's and didn't waver. I willed him to read the sincerity behind my words. For a moment, neither one of us broke the gaze. Then, the silence had gone on for a bit too long, so Fang cleared his throat.

"If you really want to learn how to cook, you have to start from the beginning. Maybe try making ramen noodles first or a grilled cheese sandwich? I'm pretty sure I have a few cookbooks in the bookroom if you need them."

"I'd save time buying the books instead of going through your 10,000 novels collection," I mumbled.

Fang's house was a lonely giant on a hill with lots of dark corners and old furniture. He had inherited it, as well as a few million, which he put into a savings account and rarely ever touched.

After a morning cup of coffee, Fang went to take a shower. I washed his mug for him then waited for his return, tapping my nails against the counter. I really hated seeing him walk away.

Fang's POV

Max insisted that she keep me company in my home office, while I got some work done. I couldn't have cared less for her company, but what I didn't realize was what a giant distraction she would be.

The light streamed in from the back window, beaming off of her, giving her an angelic glow against her soft features. I'm a horrible human being incapable of properly showing emotion, so of course, I would subconsciously throw her a glare every once and then while she stretched out innocently in the lounge seat reading the cook books I dug out for her. I had told her that cook books weren't really a pleasure read, but again she insisted.

"Am I bothering you?" she asked when she noticed my gaze. "I can leave if you want."

I wanted to throw my hands up in frustration. I couldn't analyze shit with her sitting there, but I also didn't want her to go. I took one last look at the cluster of papers on my desk that had barely been touched and came to a resolution.

"Grab your coat. I'm taking you around the city."

Max's POV

Chocolate chip cookies.

I ate batch after batch after batch until Fang finally gave up and simply refused to buy any more. I absolutely loved the city, for no other reason than the fact that food was everywhere. Not only was the place spoiled with restaurants and pastry shops but there were also vendors on every corner. This was my heaven.

Fang puzzled over where to take me, since neither one of us knew what I would like, so we went everywhere from the art museum where I accidentally set an alarm off to the batting cage where I almost gave Fang a black eye. He took me to a bridge overlooking the highway on one side and the ocean on the other, and I waved my arms at both. We went to antique stores and a fortune-teller who told me there was darkness in my future. We even roamed a witchcraft shop just because I was curious, but when the owner asked for a strand of our hair, we nearly tumbled over each other trying to get out of there. When night came crawling, Fang took me to a bar and ordered a bit of everything. He taught me how to play pool and beat me at darts. A guy named Sam asked if I wanted to dance, so I did, but when Sam's hands started wandering, I stepped on his toes and kneed him in the nuts. Fang, a little drunk, punched him the face, and the bartender kicked us out.

So we stumbled across the city laughing at our own stupidity until we reached the city park where this all started and collapsed in the middle of a soccer field, where no street lamps could dampen the light of the stars.

"Man, I haven't done this in a long-ass time," Fang mumbled with a sigh stretching out on the grass. "Not since college."

"What? Lie out and watch the sky?" I reached up and closed one eye, wondering if I reached far enough could I actually catch one.

"That too. Work really does a good job of getting in the way."

I let my hand fall back down to earth and turned to Fang. Even though I knew he was right next to me, the night was so dark that he blended right in, and I could barely see his outline. "You hate your job, don't you? How'd you get stuck with it anyways?"

I heard a smirk. "Because I'm good at it, and I don't hate doing it. I hate the cases. Everyday there's a new body, a new murder, a new victim, and a new suspect," he sighed comfortably and yawned. "It just makes me doubtful." His voice drifted as he spoke until his breaths evened out, and I knew he was asleep. He doesn't get enough of it during the week. What surprised me more than him falling asleep outside in the cold was that he spoke his mind. I guess the human side of Fang only comes out when his belly's full of beer.

Eventually, the night lulled me to sleep as well, and I could feel myself drifting, until a sudden cry cut through the night's silence like a knife.

Fang's POV

The cold woke me, and it took a few seconds to realize that I wasn't at home in my bed, but instead lying in the middle of a dark soccer field. I remember being just drunk enough to know that I couldn't drive anytime soon, but now the stars didn't have a fuzzy edge to them.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep, but I'm good to drive now. Let's head back." I stood up and patted grass off me, but the night's silence was the only response.

"Max?"

Max's POV

Fang was going to be so pissed off when he finds me. The girl still had her arms wrapped around me and was shivering with the cold and fear. She couldn't have been more than 16-years-old, but her body was decorated with tattoos and piercings.

"Max!" I heard someone shout, and I knew it was none other than Fang.

"Don't be scared. He's a good guy," I whispered to her while she pressed her tear-soaked face harder against my shoulder.

Footsteps approached at a fast pace, and then Fang's face was in view. "Oh my god, Max," he breathed when he saw me, sitting against the brick wall in an alleyway holding a crying, bleeding girl in my arms. "Why would you run off like that?"

"Don't yell," I told him softly. "I heard her screaming after some guys jumped her. They had a knife, and she's hurt." I turned her gently so that he could see the blood dripping down her arm.

He was bent over his knees still catching his breath, so he couldn't yell even if he wanted to, and I could tell he wanted to. "Looks like it's just a cut. She probably won't need stitches."

The girl's sobs finally slowed until she hiccupped and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "I could've been killed," she said through hiccups. "They would've killed me if you hadn't shown up. Where did you learn to fight like that?"

Fang nearly choked. "Do what?"

"They even gave me my wallet back," the girl was still shaking, but she smiled as she showed us proudly. "I really owe you."

I shook my head. "Just let us take you home."

Fang led us to his car, and we rode in silence aside from the occasional directions. Finally, the girl pointed at a shack of a house and stepped out from the backseat. She knocked on my window, and Fang rolled it down.

"What's your name again?" The question almost took me by surprise. I'd forgotten what a stranger she was.

"Max."

She smiled and nodded. "I'm Ella. Well, thanks, Max, for you know… saving my life. Maybe you don't really care, but I was a runaway. My mom hasn't seen me in 2 months. I think she'd thank you, too."

Fang's POV

The car ride home was awkwardly silent.

"You got into a fight?" I asked curious, but also desperate to fill the uncomfortable silence. On a normal day, I'd worship the silence, crave it, even beg for it, but I hadn't had a normal day since Max came into the picture.

Max was looking blankly out the window. "I guess," she responded simply.

"Tell me what's going on in your head," I tried. She was acting colder than usual.

"I will when you will," she teased gently. I spared her a grin but shook my head.

"My head's all clear right now, but something's bothering you."

She sighed and finally turned to face me. "I don't remember anything."

"Well that's because you have amnesia. Did you forget?"

Max ignored my attempt to lighten the mood, make her smile again. "I blacked out. One second, I was falling asleep and the next, I was standing in an alleyway with someone's blood on my knuckles."

"Whoa, you actually punched someone? Well, this is new," I said playfully, although I'd be lying if I said I wasn't impressed. I wished I'd been there to see it, if it was even true.

Max groaned in frustration. "Why?" She growled. "Why can't I ever remember anything?"

I was caught off guard. I had never seen her so distressed before. Aside from that one panic attack, she had never complained about her memory. She had simply accepted it bravely as a truth she had to face, and in a way that was always admirable. I just hadn't realized until now that I thought she was brave to not try to jump off another bridge.

"Maybe…" I struggled with the words. "Maybe it's a good thing you don't remember. Maybe your brain is trying to protect you, keep you sane and alive."

I believed in what I said. It made perfect psychological sense, but what sort of hell could burn so bad that it would make her brain completely wipe out the last 20 years of her life?


	4. Chapter 4

Fang's POV

If you climbed out the 2nd floor guest bedroom at my house, you'd find yourself sitting on the roof. During a warmer fall Saturday night, almost a month after Max moved in, Max and I ate our fast-food dinner out there right before the sunset. She was always pitching crazy ideas like that.

For example, "Let's play a game," she said thoughtfully.

I smirked. "Do I look like a man who plays games?"

"Absolutely. 20 questions?"

I nearly choked on my food. "That's an insult to my intelligence." But when Max looked disappointed, I gave in. "What do you want to know?"

Her eyes lit up. "Ok, question number 1. Do you remember your parents?"

This question took me by surprise. Even when I told her about my inheritance, she hadn't asked, probably because she was too afraid to at the time. Since when did she grow so bold?

"You're digging in a dangerous territory, my friend, but since you asked."

Max watched me anxiously, as if I was about read her a bedtime story.

"My biological parents put me up for adoption when I was a baby, and they died before I could meet them."

Her eyes grew so big. "What about the inheritance then?"

"They put me in their will. That's why I don't like using the money."

"Maybe it was their way of apologizing for giving you up."

"Mm." I shook my head as I took a bite of burger. "It's like they're trying to buy me from their grave. They're probably still haunting me."

Max flashed me a pity grin. "What about your foster parents?"

"We didn't… quite get along. I moved out as soon as I turned 18, and lived in a car for a while. Once I got the inheritance, I went to college."

"Why didn't you like your foster parents?" She asked the question I dreaded.

I crumpled up the empty brown bags in an attempt to conclude the conversation. "I think you've used up all your questions. Let's go back in. It's getting cold anyways."

Max shook her head in stubbornness. "Question #4, what happened with your foster parents?"

I sighed. I didn't have to answer, but if I got to pick that one person who got would be able to know me better than anyone else other than Iggy and Nudge, it'd be her anyways. "They were abusive."

Max bit her bottom lip unsure of how to respond. Then she settled with placing a warm hand against my arm and a smile. It was plenty.

"My turn?" I asked.

She scoffed. "If you're up for the challenge." A gust of wind blew past us, and Max scooted a little closer.

"When you realized you had no memories, what was going through your head?"

Max rested her chin on her knees and stared out at the horizon. "Nothing was going through my head. That was the problem, and I knew I should have been scared, but I wasn't," she spoke softly, almost in whispers. Her gaze suddenly met mine. "Because you were there, so I wasn't alone."

As her voice trailed off, I saw that the distance between us had grown shorter, and that Max had leaned in closer for warmth, or maybe she just wanted to be closer. It didn't matter.

In the dead silence of the night, under the rays of the setting sun, I was very aware that Max's lips were only an inch away from mine, and her eyes tugged at my soul. Do it, she seemed to beg. Meet me halfway, she pleaded. Don't tell me I'm alone here, her expression screamed.

"Do you hear beating wings?" she asked quietly.

"That's actually the song birds flying home." I whispered back now. Finding myself drawn to her parted lips. "They always do this at sunset."

"Oh," she breathed against my cheek.

At that moment, I couldn't have cared less to digest my feelings for her or her feelings for me. Me having feelings was a miracle in itself, and Max, well Max was just perfectly imperfect.

I was giving in, and we were so close that I could feel the warmth of her breath against my lips.

"Do it," she said, almost in a daring voice. So I did.

Max's POV

So… we kissed. Fang and I kissed. A luxurious lips against lips kiss. Then the doorbell rang.

And I jumped back at the sudden noise, alarmed. Fang acted like he hadn't even heard it. I wanted now more than ever to read his mind, even if just a little, anything to stop the wondering, the wishing.

We were both still, unwilling to kill the moment, but the doorbell rang again. Fang sighed and climbed back in the room. He stopped before leaving as if wanting to say something but left without a word. I'd never seen him fumble like that before.

I leaned over the edge of the rooftop and caught a glimpse of the red hair standing at the front door. There was a squeal followed by a shrill "Fang!"

"Lissa?" I was surprised when he failed to hide the shock in his voice. Other than Lissa's red hair, I couldn't see much without falling over the side, so I leaned against the window, drew my knees up to my chest, and listened with anguish settling in my stomach.

Lissa giggled. "Surprised?"

Fang composed himself and cleared his throat. "To say the least."

"Well aren't you going to invite me in?"

"Don't get me wrong, but now's not a great time."

"Oh," I could hear the disappointment in her voice. "Well, um, why?"

"I'm working on a pretty serious case, and I haven't left the office in 2 days, and I just got home." Wow he was a fantastic liar. I wondered if he ever lied to me.

"I understand," Lissa said with relief. "I thought maybe you had moved on or something, but I completely forgot about how demanding your job was, but call me tomorrow, ok?"

"I will," Fang responded.

"Seriously, Fang. Promise me you'll call."

"I promise. I'll walk you to your car."

I scooted back over to the edge carefully and Lissa then Fang came into view. He had a hand against her back and the other in the pocket of his sweats. I noticed her slim waist, and the way the business pencil skirt fit perfectly over her shaped legs. Her heels clicked against the driveway. Suddenly, I became very self-conscious of how imperfect I was compared to her.

"So I'll see you tomorrow, right?" Lissa asked as Fang opened the car door for her. He nodded. "Ok, then."

She kissed him on the cheek, lingering for a moment before pulling away. Fang watched her drive off, turned around from where he stood on the sidewalk, and looked up right at me. I nearly dove through the window.

Fang's POV

When I went back inside the house, Max was chilling in the kitchen eating ice cream. I leaned against the stove while she pretended not to see me.

"Max," I called out.

She looked at me in fake surprise. "Oh, hey Fang. What's up?"

"Max, come on, don't do that," I scolded gently. She dropped the pitiful act and sighed, taking another spoonful of ice cream.

"I guess I'm not very good with awkward situations, yet."

I smirked. "Yeah, no kidding." I grabbed a spoon and pulled up a stool to the island.

"So that was Lissa," I began. "We were dating for a while, and then she went on a 6 month business trip to Japan, so we decided to take a break and pick up where we left off after she came back. I didn't expect her to get back so early."

"Not that it matters, but does she know about me?" If Max was in any way disappointed or upset, she hid it well, which made me question if I'd gotten the wrong impression.

"Not yet, but you'll probably meet her eventually." The statement sounded more like a conclusion, and I knew Max noticed when she tensed.

Max and Lissa. Two ends of a very long spectrum.

Max was wild and innocent and angelic, but Lissa… Lissa was realistic. She was a beautiful businesswoman, who I'd known for 2 years of my life. Max made me feel alive, but Lissa grounded me to the real world, and I needed to be in the real world.

Suddenly, Max's eyes went soft as she placed her warm hands on my cheeks. The feather-like touch was so intimate with more affection than I'd felt in a lifetime, and I was surprised anyone was capable of conveying so much within a single touch.

"Fang," Max grabbed my attention. "Don't stress or freak when I say this, but you're all I have. You saved my life, at least this one, so it can't be helped that I love you."

She said what now?

"But it's ok," she continued. "You don't have to love me back. I don't expect you to, and I'll be perfectly content just being with you, so please, don't push me away."

Shivers, like I'd never experienced before, ran through my body giving me goose bumps. Maximum Ride had read me like an open book. Pushing people away was my thing. That's what I did. That's what I've always done, and she caught me red-handed before I could even commit the crime.

Max smiled and went back to eating her ice cream while I sat there helpless.


	5. Chapter 5

Max's POV

A gust of chilly wind blew through the flea market, stirring the wind chimes, making them sing like ghosts. Despite the many people crowding the streets, the fog that had settled over night didn't help the haunting atmosphere.

"Does anyone else feel like something's off about this place?" Iggy mentioned as we roamed past the vase stands.

"I think I saw someone's ashes in one of those," Fang agreed.

Nudge ignored them. "These necklaces are pretty. Look at that one."

I peeked from behind her shoulder. "Oh yeah, you're right," I said surprised, and I wasn't just saying so to please her. "That is pretty." It was simple, but delicate – a golden feather hanging on a golden chain.

Suddenly Nudge, with the attention span of a squirrel, gasped and began screeching "Oh my god! Look at those scarves! They're so pretty! They've got one in every color! Oh my gosh that one would match my dress perfectly!"

"Ok, Nudge? Only dogs would understand you now," Iggy interrupted. I laughed, and Nudge rolled her eyes as she looped her arms around mine.

"Come with me, Max. We can get some hot chocolate, while we're at it."

"Oh, hot chocolate sounds amazing right now," I nodded.

"Either one of you girls want anything?" Nudge retorted in a snide, joking manner.

"Nope," Fang responded. "We'll just be wandering over there by the human skulls."

Of course, it was Nudge's idea to come, and I was glad to get out of the house, but I had to agree with Iggy and Fang. The place gave me the creeps.

Nudge practically dragged me to the scarf stand; she was walking so fast. There was a long mirror hanging against a side of the tent, and Nudge posed with herself wrapped up in the scarves.

"What do you think of this one?" she'd ask each time.

"Looks exactly the same as the last 5," I'd respond, but then she tried on one that just matched her skin tone perfectly. I leapt up and gasped. "That one's gorgeous," I told her.

She smiled and faced me. "You really think so?"

I nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely, by far, the best one you've tried on." I stood behind her, tidying the area of the scarf around the side of her neck. I glanced up at the mirror to check my work, when the reflection of a little girl caught my eye.

She stood amidst a crowd of people, wearing a white nightgown and dragging a teddy bear, but no one noticed her. Nudge didn't seem to notice her either. Was she lost?

"Hey Nudge?"

"Hm?" she responded half-mindedly, looking through the other options. This could take a while.

"I'll be right back, ok?"

"Sure." The only time she didn't babble was when she was shopping.

When I turned away from the mirror, the girl was already walking away. I hurried after her.

"Wait!" I called out. I think some people turned their heads, but the girl ignored me. She weaved through the crowds easily, and I stumbled trying to squeeze through. For a minute, she disappeared from view, until I saw she had already made her way to the edge of the flea market, in a secluded grassy area next to the parking lot.

She waited, as I finally caught up to her, and smiled when I approached. I didn't get a chance to ask her if she was lost or what she was doing alone. "Oh, hi Max," she greeted happily as if she wasn't expecting to see me, as if she hadn't just seen me chase after her.

I took a step back in surprise. How'd she know my name? "Hi?" I greeted back. "Do I know you?"

She gave me a sad, confused look. "I'm Angel."

"Angel?" I said slowly, listening to the name ring in my ears.

She nodded, then tears began to form in her eyes. "You don't remember?"

I shook my head. "I… I'm sorry… I don't… " I began, stumbling over my words. Angel. Angel. I knew Angel.

"Max!" A voice interrupted, and I glanced behind me. Nudge was jogging over to where we stood. I'd forgotten about Nudge. I turned to face Angel again, to tell her not to take it personally because I'd woken up in the hospital with amnesia, but I found myself staring at a white Toyota instead. She was gone.

Angel, I repeated the name to myself.

Suddenly, a single piercing pain struck my head, and I found myself on my knees with my hands clenched into fists against the grass and gasping for breath. What was happening to me?

I vaguely felt Nudge's hands on my arm and back and heard her calling for Fang and Iggy. Her yelling was another knife to my head. The pain didn't last too long, though, and I found myself breathing easier before Fang and Iggy reached us.

Nudge must've felt my body relax because she rubbed my back and asked, "Max, are you ok? What happened?"

Sucking in a deep breath, I sat back against my heels and nodded. "I'm fine."

"Max!" I heard as Fang sprinted over. I stopped him before he could ask any questions.

"I'm okay," I told him. "It was just a headache."

Iggy placed a hand on my shoulder as comfort. "People don't just collapse from everyday headaches. Are you sure you're alright?"

I nodded as I surveyed my surroundings, looking for Angel. When I couldn't find her, I sighed. "Really, I'm fine. I guess I was just caught off-guard."

While Fang wore his usual mask of seriousness, Nudge looked terrified. "Stop worrying," I told her encouragingly, but she didn't let go of my arm.

"Fang, you should probably take her home," Iggy suggested, and Fang nodded.

"That sounds like a better idea. Max, can you stand?"

The question made me want to vomit. "Of course I can stand," I threw back and climbed to my feet, albeit a bit shakily, but Fang sensed the tone and thankfully, didn't offer his help. I didn't realize until we were walking to the car that my hands were still clenched. When I loosened the grip, I felt something tickling my pawn. I released the fist and glanced down. A white feather?

"Tell me the truth, Max. What happened back there?" he asked once we were alone in the car.

"If I tell you, will you think I'm crazy?"

"I already do, so it can't hurt." I hated him sometimes.

"Maybe it was a memory, and my mind's playing tricks on me. I don't know. I'm really confused about the whole thing."

"Do your best." It sounded more like a demand than an encouragement.

"There was a little girl there, and… well, she knew my name. She called me Max, and when I told her I didn't remember her, she started crying."

"Well, where were her parents?"

"She wasn't with parents, and she had this teddy bear that she dragged around by the arm."

Fang didn't respond.

"Tell me what you're thinking," I urged. "You think I belong in a mental institute, don't you."

"Not necessarily," he responded slowly, choosing his words carefully. "But Nudge should've seen her. Iggy and I should've seen her, too, but none of us did."

"Well she was gone by the time Nudge got there," I reasoned.

"But none of us saw her walk away either, and Nudge absolutely loves kids. She'd see her before any of us did."

A vein in my temple pulsed with impatient and frustration. "Ok, Fang, what are you trying to get at here?"

"I think she was a hallucination."

I looked down at my hands, folded over the soft, white souvenir pressed against my leg. Fang still didn't know about it, and I didn't want to tell him.

He could've been right. In fact, that would've been the most logical answer, if it weren't for the feather.

Fang's POV

"I need more cook books to read," Max said from where she lay on my office couch. I was preparing to review a case, and Max was keeping me company as usual.

I scoffed. "You've read just about everything I have, and you've barely touched a stove."

"That's not true. Remember how smoky the kitchen was a couple of weeks ago when you got back from work? Yeah, that was me," she said proudly.

"Maybe you should just stick to something you're good at, like eating," I suggested.

She chuckled. "Good? I am great at eating, but that's why I want to be good at cooking too. You can't be a good without good food."

I shook my head, but pointed with my pen to a higher shelf on the back corner bookcase, and she complied. But Max being Max, seconds later, I heard books tumbling and a grunt as one hit her.

This happened a lot, so without even bothering to look up from my computer, I asked, "You ok?"

"Yep," she responded simply. It had become nearly routine. "Wish I could say the same for your books, though."

"Eh. Doesn't matter. The ones up there are the ones I hardly look at anyways."

I was faintly aware of her flipping through the pages of some. "What are these anyways?"

She was flipping through my black books. "Oh, those are my reviews of old cases. I like to journal ones that really stick with me."

I heard her turn the page every couple of seconds, a swish of sound against the fabric of her shirt and her finger.

"You've worked on a lot of them," she commented absent-mindedly. "And they're so detailed. You've even got pictures and…" She came to an abrupt stop.

When she didn't continue for a few seconds, I looked up from the screen. Max looked frozen. Her lips were parted from where she didn't finish her sentence. One hand supported the black book and the other was in the middle of turning a page. Her eyes were wide with shock.

"Max," I called out, snapping her out of her trance. She rushed over to where I sat and nearly slammed the book on my laptop.

"Her," she said in a rigid voice that I didn't recognize, pointing. I followed her index finger to a photo. "That's who I saw at the flea market."

I couldn't even hide the shock.

"You saw Angel?"


	6. Chapter 6

Fang's POV

Angel's case had been closed for a while, about 6 months ago, when the team kept hitting dead ends. A month later, I'd found Max, but never would I have ever suspected that the two could possibly have been related.

After pacing my office for hours on end debating on what I should do with the information, I ignored the fact that it was 3 in the morning and called Iggy. He picked up with a groggy, "This better be good, Fang, or you're not going to hear the end of it tomorrow."

Brushing past his idle threat, I continued, "Iggy, was there anyone else with Angel?"

I could hear the rustling of his covers as he got out of bed. "Angel? Geez, Fang, are you still working on that case? It closed ages ago."

"I know it's been idle, but…" I hesitated because the words sounded crazy even to my ears. "Angel knew Max."

"Did Max tell you this? Was it a memory?" He sounded condescending.

"No, nothing like that. She was looking through my black books, and she pointed at Angel's picture, looked me directly in the eye, and told me she had seen her at the flea market. She said Angel knew her name."

"What?" Iggy's voice held disbelief. "Angel's alive?"

"She must be. Max talked to her."

"I don't know Fang. Something doesn't seem right. The chief would want to know about this, though."

I scoffed. "Are you kidding? I was almost put on probation for being too obsessed."

Iggy sighed. "Fine, I'll take care of the chief." Bingo.

"Yes, Iggy. Thank you. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

"You knew how this conversation was going to end didn't you?"

I smirked. "Goodnight."

Max's POV

Fang had me wait outside the chief's office while he paced back and forth, but I wasn't sure why I was there. He had snatched the black book away from me after I'd shown him Angel's picture, and he kept telling me not to worry about her case. I had never seen him so antsy before.

"You're making me nervous," I told him. He glanced up at me, but ignored me and kept pacing.

Finally after too many intense minutes, Iggy peeked his head through the cracked door. "Chief wants to see you guys."

The man who Fang and Iggy called chief was actually a woman, a proper looking lady named Valencia Martinez.

"So you're Max," she greeted. "The same Max who brought my Ella home?"

What?! "Ella's your daughter?" I asked wondrously. "How is she?"

Valencia smiled softly. "She's okay. I'm glad that I'm getting the chance to say thank you in person."

I returned the smile. The chief was much kinder than I'd expected, especially after hearing all the horror stories Fang and Iggy told about how strict and stern she was. Perhaps scaring her employees just came with the territory of being chief, but I wasn't scare of her at all. "Um, Ms. Martinez…"

"Just call me Valencia," she offered. I noticed Fang and Iggy exchange a surprised look.

"Oh, ok. Um, Valencia, I'm not sure why I'm here."

Her expression turned serious, and she gestured to the chair in front of her desk. "Max, I need you to tell me exactly what happened the day you saw Angel."

With Fang's encouragement, I told her every detail I could remember. When I was finished, she nodded slowly and began gathering papers from a drawer. I peeked and saw that they were forms.

"Well, Angel was kidnapped 4 years ago, when she was 2 years old," she began. "She disappeared from her bed in the middle of the night without a trace. Since then, there'd been a few similar cases of children disappearing and kidnappings that gave us leads, but at some point, the unsub just stopped. Maybe he died or moved away, we don't know, but we tried to piece together the information we had so that we could at the very least recover the children or the bodies, but we just kept chasing our own tails." She then looked to where Iggy and Fang stood. "Fang was the lead in that case, and Iggy was his right hand."

Fang's hands were clenched into fists, and he grit his teeth. "I looked Angel's parents in the eyes and promised them I'd get her back."

And just like that, I understood why Angel's case was in his black book, why he hadn't sleep that night I told him I saw her, why he hadn't stopped pacing. His eyes were filled with hurt, and for the first time since I'd met him, he appeared completely transparent and vulnerable.

Iggy placed a hand on Fang's shoulder in comfort. "We all did, but it was a promise none of us could keep. It's highly unlikely for kidnapped children to survive past 72 hours, let alone 4 years."

"When the next child disappeared with the same m.o., we assumed Angel was already dead." Valencia continued. "So if we can be sure that Angel's alive, we can revive the case."

"Chief?" Fang questioned in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

She grinned. "And I'll even make you lead, on one condition. Max gets put on the case." So that's what the forms were for.

"No," Fang immediately opposed shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Chief, but I don't think that's a good idea."

Valencia gave him a warning look. "Well, I think it's a great idea. She might have a history with Angel that we're unaware of."

"But she's just as clueless," Fang argued. "Plus, she's not trained to be in the field. You'd be putting a citizen at risk."

"I'm sorry to dive right into the fire," Iggy interrupted. "But Max is sitting right here."

Valencia and Fang stopped their arguing as Iggy asked, "Max, what do you think?"

The sudden bomb of information thrown at me had me speechless so that I was barely listening to the conversation. All I could think about was Angel locked up and starving in some tiny room in the attic, muffling her cries against her teddy bear, alone and terrified.

The same Angel knew me. And I'd let her walk away.

I was scared, and for the first time, I didn't want to remember. Fang was right. My brain was clearly trying to protect me from something, and I'd be stupid to try to fight myself.

But this also wasn't about me.

So I swallowed past the fear and crushing sadness and slowly turned to Fang. "Angel's case. It's important to you, right?"

He shrugged. "Don't worry about me, Max."

But of course I'd worry about him.

Then I faced Iggy, "And it's important to you too."

He nodded.

So then finally, I faced Valencia, who raised her eyebrows in amusement and wonder. "I want to do it. I might be useless because I can't remember anything, but I'll do whatever it takes."

Valencia smiled at my resolve, and I let out a heavy breath.

"Let's bring Angel home."


	7. Chapter 7

**Super sorry for such a late update. Hope you enjoy!**

Max's POV

Fang's office had become home to me. I'd practically been living there since the revival of Angel's case. We all have.

Iggy and Fang recapped the history of the case, running through every line of evidence and information they had, and I'd read the files over and over again until I memorized every detail. The victims had nothing in common aside from one aspect – their parents. They were either abusive or workaholics who neglected their child. Still, that was pretty little information to go on.

So of course, tonight was no different. Iggy and I were holed up in Fang's office, drinking coffee and running through the case for the billionth time until I was banging my head against the glass windows and Iggy was banging his head against Fang's desk.

"This is a mistake," I finally told him, plopping onto the office couch. "Valencia shouldn't have put me on this case. I'm completely useless without my memory."

Iggy shook his head. "The chief is probably hoping that working on the case will stimulate your memory, and she's right. Even a little detail would help."

Before I could voice my doubt, Iggy's cellphone rang. Seconds later, he was leaping to his feet and grabbing his coat. I sat up on the couch alarmed.

"Iggy?"

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Max, but I need you to stay here."

I grabbed his wrist, stopping him from turning the door handle. "Iggy, what's going on?"

He hesitated. "Fang's in trouble."

Now, I was on my feet. "Take me with you," I said with a stern voice. Still, he was hesitant. "Iggy, take me with you, please." I had said please, but my voice was almost demanding.

We rode in silence. A fire truck passed us, behind an ambulance, and Iggy stomped on the pedal. Then, we could see the smoke, rising above the trees.

A dozen police cars were parked around the house, orange and red with the blazing fire. I could feel the heat against my skin, even from where I stood, yards away. Sparks flew and sizzled against the grass.

"He's inside," Valencia said as soon as she spotted us. "With the kid."

"What kid?" I asked.

"They didn't tell you?" Valencia asked in surprise.

I looked to Iggy, who couldn't meet my eyes. "Iggy?"

"There was another kidnapping, an orphan. We got an anonymous call that he was here."

"And no one told me?" I was yelling over the fire. I wanted to go on a rampage, but the sudden burst of fire interrupted me. We could hear the shattering of glass and the ceiling collapsing. Half of the house was already demolished.

My heart was slamming against my chest, so hard I thought my ribs would break. How could I be so freaking useless?

Think like Fang, I told myself. Fang is inside that burning building, with a child in his arms. I knew he'd get that kid out even if it cost him his life. What would he do?

Valencia was talking to Iggy. The firemen were trying to contain the fire. The medics were preparing stretchers. Before I could even consider what I was doing, I found myself sprinting towards the house.

Fang's POV

The smoke was a chokehold, and my lungs screamed. The ceiling was collapsing all around us, and while I was coughing as I dodged the fire's rage, Gazzy had gone quiet, so I knew I had to hurry.

Most of the fire was concentrated on the first and second floors, so I clung onto Gazzy's shirt and made my way to the attic. My vision began to blur with the smoke and lack of oxygen, and I could feel the blackness tugging at me.

There was a single small circular window. It was questionable if I could fit through it, but Gazzy certainly could. If I opened the window, though, I'd be fueling the fire with oxygen. The floor felt warm, almost hot, but not quite.

"Fang!" I suddenly heard, and I thought maybe it was my imagination. "Fang!" I heard again.

I took a peek out the window, and saw Max hanging from the gutters. Behind her was an army of cops shouting at her for her to get down. "You have time if you hurry!" she shouted over the fire. "Fang, you are getting out alive!" She continued. "Drop the kid down first, I'll catch him!"

Jesus Christ, Max. I would've sighed or let out a breath if I could. Of course, it'd be Max.

I punched through the windowpane, ignoring the stings of the glass, and slid Gazzy down the roof. Behind me, I could hear the vicious roars of the fire. The flames were climbing fast now, but the newfound oxygen gave me strength. I dove through the window, feet first. I slid down the roof and caught myself at the edge before I could fall 3 stories.

Max had one arm wrapped around the gutters, and Gazzy was hanging from the other. She smiled up at me, relief in her eyes, and oh boy, was I glad to see her.

Max's POV

The moment Fang's feet touched ground, I couldn't resist. I threw my arms around him, close to tears from relief. He was okay.

I was surprised when I felt his hands against my back, returning the hug.

"Thank you," I heard him whisper in my ear before pulling back and reporting to Valencia. With the adrenaline gone, I felt like I could just collapse with relief.

Fang's POV

"Excuse me, chief, but this is bull shit," I mumbled, as I sat on the cushioned check-up table.

She gave me a shocked look. "This is standard, and you're bleeding." The broken glass had cut me on the side while I was diving through, but in the heat of the moment, I'd barely felt it.

"That'll need some stitches," the doctor agreed, and I gave him the most fowl look.

"Just make it fast," I warned. Then I turned to the chief. "How's Gazzy?"

She was pacing, and now she came to an abrupt halt. Her eyes met mine, and she shook her head. My vision went red.

And when it cleared, there was a hole in the wall the size of my fist. My breath was still coming in gasps with anger.

"Ok, Fang? I want you to take some time off," the chief said carefully.

I glared at her. "No."

She lifted an eyebrow in warning. "I'm serious Fang. I need you to step away from the case for just a few days, until you calm down, or else I'll be forced to suspend you again."

I continued to glare at her before I ground out through grit teeth, "Fine."

She was at least smart enough to step out of the room and take the doctor with her to let me stew in my anger alone.

Max's POV

Fang was absolutely pitiful without work. He lounged around the house like a sad puppy. The book room looked like a tornado had rummaged through every shelf and drawer. When he learned that I hid all his old files on Angel's case, he threatened to starve me. For 4 days, I survived off of ramen noodles, canned soup, salads, and toasted bread.

"Find a damn hobby," I told him when I found him hanging upside down from the couch, tossing a toy basketball in the air. "This is just sad."

He gave me a cold look and continued.

I sighed and hung upside down next to him. "Come on, Fang."

No response.

"Fang."

Still no response.

So I caught the stress ball and snatched it away from him. Now he was glaring at me. Good, I have his attention.

"Max, what do you want from me?" His voice was as cold as his look.

I let myself slide down, so that I was sitting on the rug against the couch. "Nudge would kill me if she ever found out, but..." from under the couch I pulled out a bottle of rum. I'd hidden most of the alcohol around the house, too, on Iggy's warning. "We could both use some."

Fang's POV

Man was I getting old.

I was awake the second the sunrays shined through the window and hit my closed eyelids, stirring the onset of a monster of a headache. Today was going to be rough and probably the only day where I was grateful I didn't have to go to work.

When I saw the lock of chocolate brown hair on my pillow, I nearly fell out of bed, until I remembered that I didn't trust Max stumbling her way upstairs, so she wound up in bed with me. I tried to remember how many shots we took.

I pulled the curtains closed for Max's sake, and when I turned back around, I was faced with her sleeping face. Her lips were parted ever so slightly. I lingered. I wanted to feel her breath against my cheeks again.

That night was so long ago, that the impression was wavering.

Her cheeks were a little flushed, probably from the warmth of the alcohol. She looked so fragile that I wondered where all her strength could possibly be coming from.

Max's POV

I wanted to never drink again.

Every little noise amplified by 100 and made my head spin.

"Morning sunshine," Fang greeted in the kitchen. I was aware of a cup being placed somewhere near my head and the smell of coffee, which woke me up a little. I glanced up and nearly choked.

Fang was half naked, with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. He certainly had grown bold. The light gleamed through the kitchen and hit his body oh so perfectly, making him shimmer with the droplets of shower water that fell from his hair and rolled down his stomach. I could see the new scar from the stitches.

What was he trying to do to me?

"You ok?" he asked when I'd failed to produce any viable words or sounds after 5 minutes.

"Mhmm, Dandy," I responded subtly and took a sip of coffee.

He shook off the puzzled look and continued. "I know I haven't been easy the last two weeks," he started. "But thanks for…" he paused for a moment and cleared his throat. "Just thanks."

I shrugged. "Anytime, I guess." I wished he'd finished what he was originally trying to say. Before Fang could get started on breakfast, the doorbell rang, a couple of times successively.

"I'll get it," I offered, hungry and not wanting to delay another second of food. I swung the door open wearing a long, ragged t-shirt and shorts hidden underneath, to see a swish of red hair.

Enter: Lissa.

Her smile faded when she saw me. "Who are you?" she asked puzzled.

"I'm Max," I responded plainly. There had been nights when Fang didn't come home, so I knew he was still seeing her, but I hadn't met her yet. I also didn't know if Fang told her about me at all. "Fang's in the kitchen. I'll grab him." I left the door open for her to make herself comfortable, and as I headed towards the kitchen, I took a deep breath to calm myself.

Fang chose her. Deal with it.

"Lissa's here," I told Fang. He'd finished making breakfast and was waiting patiently for me. Upon hearing Lissa's name, his head jerked up, a moment of weakness, before he composed himself again.

"I had to cancel a couple of dinner plans," he explained briefly.

Instead of following him to the couch where Lissa was waiting, I stuffed my face with more food, until I looked like a chipmunk and was unable to speak.

"Lissa," Fang greeted in surprise. I heard her breath a sigh of relief.

"Oh my god, Fang. You're all right. Thank god you are okay."

"Yeah, I'm fine. What are you doing here?"

"Well I heard what happened. Why wouldn't you answer any of my calls?"

"I've been distracted, and very drunk."

Lissa laughed, a sophisticated womanly chuckle. "Oh, Fang. I was so worried, but I'm so glad you're okay."

There was silence, so I assumed either they were hugging or making out. Either way, I'd finished the food on my plate and was digging my way through the fridge.

"Fang, I have a proposal to make, and it will sound crazy, but please just hear me out, okay?" Lissa began. A proposal? Was she going to ask him to marry her? I leaned in towards the living room as close as I could without actually revealing myself.

Fang didn't respond, so Lissa continued.

"I've been going insane these past few days because I just had no idea what happened to you. You needed someone, and I wasn't here, and that killed me. Fang, we've known each other for a while now, well enough for me to trust you. I think we should move in together."

The bowl of ice cream sprinkled with cereal that I'd held in my hands slipped and landed on the tiled floor with a clatter.

"Max?" I heard Fang call out. "Everything all right in there? You're not trying to cook again, are you?"

I scrambled around on the floor trying to scoop up the melting ice cream with my hands and soaked paper towels. "Yep!" I responded quickly. "All good. I'm taking care of it."

But Fang and Lissa showed up anyways, Fang leaning the counter and Lissa behind him with her arms wrapped around his waist.

"Max, what were you doing?" Fang questioned.

I fumbled with the paper towels and the hair falling all over my face and my hands sticky with ice cream. "Nothing. I was just, uh," I brushed some hair away from my face with the back of my hands. "Thinking that it's a great idea for Lissa to move in."

Damn it, Max!

"You do?" Fang asked wondrously.

"Don't you?" Lissa asked him.

"Well, I…" Fang was speechless for a moment. Today was just catching him off guard. Finally, he sighed and finished. "If Max is ok with it, then I guess…"

"Ok with it?" I interrupted. "I'm fantastic! I think this is perfect!"

Man, my pride was really just not going to let me talk, and I still couldn't stop, "I wanted to move out soon anyways."

Now Fang was surprised. "Max, you don't have to…"

"No, I'm serious!" I said with a foolish grin. "You guys need your space, and I need to learn to take care of myself."

"Then it's done," Lissa concluded with a kiss to Fang's cheek. "I'm moving in!" She squealed and threw her arms around Fang's neck.

He returned her hug, but his eyes met mine. They were stone.

I wasn't going to fight over a guy who wouldn't fight for me. But that's what I wanted. I wanted Fang to fight for me.

To say no.

To say I meant too much to him to leave.

To tell me to stay.

But he didn't.


	8. Chapter 8

_**I would say sorry for the hiatus, but it's just embarrassing at this point! Enjoy!**_

 **Max's POV**

I took another big gulp of vodka tonic.

"You got someone to drive you home?" the bartender asked with a scolding look.

I shrugged. "I can walk. Just keep them coming."

Someone placed a hand on my shoulder, and I made a pathetic attempt to slap them away. Can't people leave a girl alone to drink in peace?

"Max," I didn't need to turn around to know that condescending voice belonged to Iggy.

"Funny, I would've expected such judgement only from Nudge."

Iggy shook his head and wagged his finger jokingly. He was still in his work clothes, the classic white collared button up and slacks.

"You should try wearing a hat to work tomorrow, see what Valencia thinks about that." I rested my head against my knuckles sloppily. My head drooped.

Iggy chuckled and gestured to the bartender for a drink. "Damn she's drunk."

The bartender nodded sadly, "Worst I've seen in awhile."

I narrowed my eyes. "Now that just can't be true. I may be drunk, but I'm not now nor have I ever been an idiot, thank you very much."

Iggy shook his head almost apologetically before grabbing the seat next to me. He spun my stool so that I had to face him, had to meet his unseeing eyes. "Alright, talk to me, Max. What's going on?"

I pinched his cheeks playfully, barely noticing his stubble with my numb and drunk fingers. "Are you really blind, Iggy? Because I swear you can see me. I mean, I _feel_ you looking right at me. How do you drive?"

He smacked my hands away. "I'm being serious right now."

I sighed and spun back to face my drink. Iggy forcing me to be serious when I was so deadly drunk was sadly sobering me up, like having to face the cops and touch your nose over and over again.

"I'm growing up and moving out," I responded simply. "Like a true adult who's got nobody. Join me in the celebration why don't you?"

"Did you get into an argument with Fang? I've known that guy for the majority of my life, and I'm hesitant to believe he'd ever kick you out, so I can only assume you're leaving voluntarily."

"Spot on, genius."

Iggy sighed and took a big swig of his drink before continuing, like he was preparing for a touch speech. "Look, Max, I'll slit your throat if you ever tell I gave him praise, but Fang is a really good guy. I mean, a _really_ good guy, like miraculously good despite his shithole of a childhood. I'm sure he didn't mean to upset you, and I know you mean a lot to him, so let me talk to him, and I'm sure we can work something out…"

I stopped him because I couldn't bear to let him continue telling me what I already dreadfully knew. That Fang was one of a kind and irreplaceable. "I know all of that, Iggy. Trust me, I'm the last person you'd have to convince that Fang is a saint, but…" I sighed. "That's kind of the problem. You see, Lissa's business trip ended early, and she's moving in with Fang."

Well, that did the trick. Iggy was speechless.

"They're taking their relationship," here I made sure to use air quotes "to the next level."

"Forgive me for asking," Iggy took another big sip of his drink, so I knew I wasn't going to like what was coming next. "But do you have feelings for Fang?"

Just rip the bandaid off why don't you? Frankly, the fact that I was in love with Fang was really no secret. Afterall, I'd technically already confessed to him, even if that was ages ago, and sure, we never spoke of that or the kiss on the rooftop again, but that didn't dampen my feelings in the slightest. Actually, with every additional day, every second that I spent with Fang, the more I grew fond of him and every little thing about him. The way his eyes bore holes into your soul when he looked at you, the way his brows furrowed in concentration, the way he smiled. If you teased him, he'd give you half a smile, adoringly. If he managed to unravel another clue to a case, he'd full-on grin. I even fell in love with the way he'd suck on half a sugar cube and put the other half in his tea. I thought it gross at first, and I would've still thought it gross if that'd been say, Iggy, but with Fang, it just became endearing.

Yet, I had never heard anyone other than myself say it aloud, and so bluntly. It took me by surprise and sounded odd leaving from Iggy's lips. I felt embarrassed, almost ashamed, so I was grateful that Iggy accepted my silence for an answer. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder in a brotherly fashion.

"Valencia would kill you if you went to the office drunk, but there's work to do, you know, if you want to take your mind off of things."

I smiled and nudged him lightly in the ribs. "You sure know how to cheer a girl up." I gestured at the envelope sitting on his lap. "Is that work?"

He nodded, opening the folder just enough to show a boy's picture. "In fact, the chief ordered that I deliver this straight to you."

"To me?" I beamed. "I'm flattered. What can I do to help?"

"Well she's hoping you might recognize him, the kid who got caught in the fire, but we really should go somewhere less exposed."

I glanced around. The bar was pretty empty with the exception of the bartender and an old man sitting across from us. He hadn't said a word during our entire conversation, but he seemed much too drunk and half asleep to have paid much attention. I realized then how much it sucked living life as Iggy and Fang, having to be suspicious of everyone, having to live by "guilty until proven innocent." No one could be trusted, so if I really wanted to earn a place in Fang and Iggy's life, I'd have to fight for it. Maybe step one was realizing and understanding that they both had a life before I came along, and that Fang didn't necessarily need me to be his most important thing in life.

* * *

Fang was pacing the living room when Iggy and I returned home.

"Max," he rushed towards me as Iggy closed the door behind us. His hands hung in the air unsure, like he wanted to grab my arms, but was afraid of what touching me might do.

"Were you worried?" I joked casually, brushing his useless hands aside as I headed towards the kitchen. I had walked out feeling pretty pissed off, but that wasn't fair to Fang, so I was determined that he wouldn't torture himself over a situation that wouldn't have been a situation if he had just never met me. Plus, I was now here for a reason outside of Fang. I was solving a case.

"Alright, lay it on me, Iggy," I had made coffee for all of us, and I gave Fang a sure smile when I handed a cup to him, along with an extra sugar cube.

Iggy scattered the items of the folder onto the kitchen island and held up the photo of Gazzy, the boy who'd died in the fire. There was a headshot. He was a cute kid, with determined eyes and spiky hair. Then there was the photo of him facedown and naked, on a medical examiner's table.

"He died of malnutrition and dehydration," I read the report and pushed it towards Fang. "He didn't stand a chance in that fire."

Iggy nodded. "He was also branded and tortured, but that's not the strange part. Look at the shots of his back."

I took the photo from Iggy and gasped, catching Fang's attention as he looked over my shoulder. "What in the hell?!"

"That," Iggy traced it with his fingers. "Is his spine."

"Not a human spine," Fang corrected, and he was right. The poor boy's bones were contorted into awful spikes. Maybe they weren't obvious at first, but the way the examiner positioned the boy with his arms hugging his knees, the spine stuck out like rays of a sun out the boy's back. They looked painful, and dangerous.

"What did the coroners say?"

"Two theories," Iggy flashed two fingers in demonstration. "First, stone man syndrome or something along the lines of elephant man."

I shook my head not convinced. "But the deformity is concentrated only to his spine and way too uniform."

"Hence the second theory. For lack of better terms, his DNA was… odd."

"Odd how?" Fang probed.

"Odd like, not entirely human?"

Fang and I exchanged confused glances. "What exactly are we dealing with here? Are we talking supernatural?"

Iggy shrugged.

"Well, I think this is worth a conversation with the examiner tomorrow," Fang said in determination.

"And I'll be coming with," I was getting over asking for permission. I did have the necessary clearance after all.

"There was something else at the scene," Iggy added, and he pulled out the plastic evidence bag.

A white feather.


	9. Chapter 9

**Max's POV**

My fingertips just barely brushed that white feather when a sharp spear of pain shot through my skull. I must've let out a whimper, because from somewhere far away, I could feel Fang's gentle hands on my shoulders.

Suddenly, I wasn't in Fang's kitchen anymore. There was no island with Gazzy's horrific photos or his coroner's report, but in my right hand, I still held the white feather, and as I looked at the feather, I realized I could see through my hand. I wasn't in Fang's kitchen anymore because I was in Angel's memory, like some ghost or guardian who'd been following her all this time.

She was even prettier than the last time I'd seen her. She sat on a wooden swing in the front of her suburban house twirling her doll's hair with her fingers and humming to herself a strangely sad tune. I could feel her loneliness like it was my own.

Somewhere behind me there was a creak, and when I spun around, Angel's father stood in the front doorway. He wore a stern face with his hands rested lazily on his hips. There was no love in his eyes. Only dull shadows. Angel's expression fell before he even said a word. "You promised," she said simply, her voice cracking with tears. In a single swift motion, she'd leapt off the swing and run down the street, disappearing from my sight.

"Angel wait!" I heard my own voice as I reached out to her, but I realized she couldn't hear me. No one could hear me because I was only a ghost. I couldn't move my feet to chase her, I realized, because I would only see what she allowed, and Angel wanted me inside the house. The living room was horrific, a shocking contrast to the neatly mowed front yard, well gardened and well-maintained, with toys gathered in a crate under the oak tree that supported the wooden swing.

Beer cans, wine bottles, and shattered glass lay everywhere. Dishes piled up in the sink and spilled over to the countertops, where flies landed. Forget the trash can, the whole house was garbage.

More glass shattering drew my attention to the hallway just to my left. It was dark, the light was busted, and I felt like I was being pulled deeper and deeper into a black hole. Meanwhile, the shouting grew louder and louder, until my body stopped in front of the remnants of what used to be a bedroom covered in dinosaur wallpaper. Now the paper peeled from the walls and in some section only torn bits remained.

Gazzy.

He sat at his desk, halfway through an essay, with his arms held over himself in defense. His father, Angel's father, stood over him shouting and banging on his little arms. Bruises appeared with every strike.

"Your fault," his father was yelling over and over again. "It's your fault."

From where I stood, I could see Gazzy's stoic expression. He didn't cry, even as his father's knuckles caught his nose, and it began to bleed.

"Stop!" I realized those words weren't mine. "Daddy, stop!" They were Angel's. I was Angel standing in that doorway, watching my father tear my brother to shreds. His attention turned towards me, and for a second, I almost thought his eyes were meeting mine. He managed a single step in my direction, before Gazzy was on his feet leaping towards me, his arms outstretched, defiance written all over his face.

* * *

"Snap out of it, Max," Fang was shaking my shoulders, exacerbating the residuals of my headache, and I groaned, slapping his hands away.

"She's back," Iggy said with a sigh of relief. "You kind of zoned out there, you alright?"

I nodded slowly, eyeing the feather that was still in its red evidence bag.

"Here sit down," Fang suggested pulling out a chair from the island.

"I'm fine, I think… I think I just remembered something. Well, maybe not remembered. It wasn't my memory, it was Angels."

Iggy and Fang exchanged looks. "I can't really explain it, but just have the coroner crossmatch Gazzy's DNA with that feather."

"Uh, Max, what are you trying to get to?" Iggy didn't seem amused.

"Just do it," I said in exasperation. "If I'm wrong, I give both of you permission to handcuff me and throw me in the psychiatric ward."

"Wrong about what?" Fang asked sharply. I think we were all exhausted, frustrated, and trying to think with way too little sleep.

"Gazzy was Angel's brother."

I couldn't have been the only person to feel the chills run down my spine in that moment.

* * *

 **Fang's POV**

Iggy and I watched Max and Chief through the blinds only partially drawn, giggling over their cups of black coffees.

Before too long, the crowd grew from Iggy and I to the entire police department. I took a glance around, how did I never notice how predominantly male the place was? I began to feel sorry for Chief having to deal with so much testosterone, and then my penis brain took over, and I started to wonder if the Chief might look more like Max if she'd let her hair down from her bun, and if they'd…

Ah, stop it, stupid.

"Did you know the Chief was capable of laughing?" I needed to distract myself.

"Forget laughing, I wasn't sure Chief was human." Iggy retorted. The gathered policemen nodded in agreement.

I snickered. "Are you jealous it's not you getting all the attention?"

Iggy turned his sightless eyes at me and winked. "I'm perfectly happy just watching."

… Idiot. But in truth, he was only reading my mind, and apparently the minds of every

other guy in the office because suddenly we were all animals on edge, like lions during mating season.

I cleared my throat as if clearing the silence might make the tension less tense and knocked on the window. Everyone else with the exception of Iggy made way like flies, and the two ladies glanced up, midway through more giggling.

I let myself in, too annoyed in the moment with my male parts to mind my manners with the boss. "The doc is waiting." I couldn't meet either of their eyes, and I was lowkey ashamed.

"You and Chief are getting pretty cozy," Iggy commented on our way down. In that moment, I was grateful that he was blind and unable to catch the glare I threw in his direction.

Max shrugged. "I think she's just happy to have a chick in the office," she said cheerfully. "Believe me when I say she thinks the world of you guys though. She'll punch me in the throat for telling you guys, but you're the family she never had."

For reasons I couldn't exactly comprehend in that moment, my heart warmed, and I started to believe Max might be magic, working miracles on those around her.

The doc was certainly impressed enough with Max. He spun around in his desk chair and threw his hands up when he saw her. "You're a genius!" If it weren't for the body of Gazzy lying between us, nothing would've stopped him from grabbing her head and planting a slobbery kiss to her forehead, but Gazzy's corpse kind of ruined the moment.

The mood had been pretty light until then. Maybe because none of us, perhaps not even Max, really believed the results would've been anything significant. She was pretty sarcastic about throwing herself in a psychiatric ward, and frankly, she was running that risk either way, right or wrong, but then we saw Gazzy's corpse.

The poor kid's entire body was a mural of bruises in various stages of healing, the worst of which were stark black on his chest. Maybe he had some broken ribs, or some internal bleeding, exacerbated by that smoke inhalation. He'd been placed in a loose fetal position so that his abnormalities could be exposed, and I saw that the bluish-green tint of his skin radiated across his back, and his deformed spine as well. It was like a shaded transverse wave running down his body, upper neck to tail. The last bone protruding his skin was the biggest, almost the length of my forearm. The single cheek that was visible was hollowed, shrunken.

"Max, you alright?" I asked immediately. The sight was horrific enough for Iggy and I, and we were trained to stomach things like this.

She glanced up at me for a second, and in that second I saw the darkest gray clouds cast over her eyes, but still, she nodded. "That's Gazzy," she confirmed. "Not the version in my memory, but that's him alright." Then to Doc. "I assume you have good news regarding him and Angel's DNA comparison?"

He nodded in excitement. "Siblings! Hermano y hermana. He's older, obviously, but interesting that a pair of siblings could have no documentation." He shrugged, just babbling now. "Either way that's not my territory, but I'm just thinking, it's strange that through the whole investigation, we had no school reports or anything to suggest they were related."

Max was awfully quiet on the drive home, a complete contrast to the Max who had been making jokes with Chief.

"It's alright if you're not ok," I told her. "Iggy and I have been doing this for a while, and you couldn't remember your name when you woke up half a year ago."

The tires screamed when I hit the road's shoulder. When I drove Max home 6 months ago, she'd jumped and grasped my arm at the sound. Now, she didn't even flinch.

"No one would've reported them missing," she said this quietly, like the words were more for herself than to inform me. "Because their father was abusive and neglected them."

Only now did she turn her eyes to mine, and I saw she was holding back tears. "Maybe they didn't go to school because he kept them isolated. He'd tell the neighbors they were 'homeschooled' but the kids would learn how to read by sneaking books under their beds at night, where they'd hide from his drunken state." She sniffed. "Maybe all they had was each other."

Without thinking, I'd reached for her hand.

"I shouldn't have let you come with us to see Gazzy. I knew it wasn't going to be pretty, but you kind of have this way of always getting what you want," I joked lightly, and she did laugh a little, but then her expression fell sad again from a new memory, and she gently withdrew her hand.

"Not always." She wiped her eyes and nose with the back of her sleeve stubbornly, like a child who'd just finished having a fit. "I'm not upset because of Gazzy. I mean it was bad, but…" she hesitated. I waited, trying to push the memory of her withdrawing her soft hands from mine to the back of my mind, storage for further analyzing later. "...I feel like it's my fault."

 **Review and let me know what you think! Always looking for feedback... and ideas ;P**


	10. Chapter 10

**Max's POV**

The revelation regarding Gazzy's relations with Angel was old news now. Everyone working on Angel's case, so really just Iggy, Fang, and I spent our time at the office shooting paper balls at the trash can, figuring out new methods to solving the rubix cube, pacing the moldy carpeted floors. We were all waiting, either for me to have another memory or for the doc to figure out the origins of Gazzy's deformity.

Because the cold case had been revived due to my presence, I was feeling particularly disappointed… in myself, like I'd let everyone down, especially Fang. I knew the case was a sore spot for him, even though he'd read my mind and tell me to just take my time, that all cases take a long time to solve, that it was miraculous the case was brought back at all. Still, the dead end put all of us in a poor mood.

If I didn't have rent to pay, I might've just quit altogether, and everyone else could've just moved on. The way it was now, it felt like we were just stuck in time, like time wasn't moving at all.

The only exception was Chief, and I had a pretty good idea why.

Iggy eyed the door of Fang's office one day suspiciously. I cocked my head trying to read his mind. "Whatcha doin'?" I asked.

Before he could respond, Chief was knocking on Fang's door. Startled, Fang quickly lowered his feet down from his desk, cleared his throat, and said in a voice that sounded like he'd been pulling all-nighters. "Yes, Chief."

"Actually, can I talk to you for a second?" She was looking at me, a smile on her face, her eyes bright, her cheeks flushing. Iggy and Fang exchanged confused glances like they always did, but I wasn't worried because I knew what she wanted to talk about. For what other reason would a girl need a girl's opinion?

But I waited for her to speak anyways. She was jittery and nervous, obviously barely holding herself together in front of the office men. I shut her door and closed the blinds while she wringed her hands.

She paced and paced for what felt like a lifetime, because when you're waiting and all anxious, time always seems to stretch itself, but then she suddenly faced me and blurted, "Nathan proposed."

* * *

So, before Chief and I became gal-pals, I was terrified of her, even though she never gave me any reason to fear her. She was kind and open the moment Fang introduced me, but somewhere in my forgotten past, I must've had bad authority issues, because I always felt the need to bow to Chief and keep my head down in her presence.

I don't do that anymore, because the day the team went to go talk to doc about Gazzy and Angel's DNA matching, I'd showed up at the office early and alone. I hadn't moved out of Fang's house yet at the time, but Lissa was there that morning making Fang brunch.

I woke up to the smell of bacon that day and ran downstairs, practically tripping over the torn bottoms of my pajama pants, and there she was. Stunning. Even to me. With her gorgeous red waves flowing down her back, her flawless lips curving up into a smile, then a soft laugh erupted as she stirred the scrambled eggs. I felt like I was sitting through a romance movie, waiting anxiously for the minute Fang would wrap his arms around the lady from behind and kiss her neck. The two would rock side to side slowly, maybe slow dance to some Norah Jones. Of course he didn't, but I realized in that moment, that I was living a fantasy believing Fang might ever love me back, because any idiot off the street could see that Lissa and Fang fit like perfect puzzle pieces, and I was just a child wanting to be a rockstar when I grew up.

Anyways, I ended up sneaking out of the garage door with a bus ticket and a rotten mood, feeling a desperate need for a distraction, something to stop me from banging my head against the wall, something to stop myself from obsessing over my own stupidity, which is why I brought Chief the coffee that morning. No one else in the office really paid me much attention. I was a temp afterall.

I knocked on Chief's door sheepishly with my elbow, my hands occupied with the hot drinks. She seemed uncertain when she realized I was alone, but wasn't altogether unpleasant, just caught off guard I suppose.

"Coffee?" I offered. She invited me in with a palm of her hand and returned to her seat. "I'm not sure how you like your coffee, so it's black, the way I like mine. Hope you don't mind."

Chief smiled gratefully. "Black is actually just the way I like mine, too. Not that I don't enjoy your plain company, but did you need something, Max?"

I laughed weakly. Where else would I go? "I'm locked out of Fang's office, and he's still on his way."

"He didn't want to come with you?"

I chose my words carefully, "He has a special friend over, so I thought I'd give them some alone time." Did that sound supportive enough? Could she see through my facade?

Chief nodded with understanding as soon as the words "special friend" left my lips, and she laughed. "Oh those special friends just ruin everything don't they?"

I must've looked confused.

"I'm sorry," she chuckled. "It's just that my daughter uses that term… special friend. I think she's having trouble accepting my love life. That might be more than you need to know, but I figured as the only other woman in the office, you'd judge me the least for having a love life at all."

Chief spoke so casually in that moment that I forgot she was my boss, that she was in charge of all the men wearing uniforms and carrying guns. The way she talked to me, with no disguise of authority, oddly reminded me of Nudge, and I pictured Chief curling her hair and putting on mascara on Friday nights, wearing slender black dresses to her dates. That woman might seem like a stark contrast to the lady in buns sitting in front of me right now, but when she smiled, when she wiped the coffee from her bottom lips, I could see that the idea wasn't so crazy.

"Tell me about him," I pursued, feeling so much braver now.

Then she painted a picture of Nathan with her words. Maybe she wasn't so specific, but I imagined a man a head taller than Chief, with glasses and sweater vests, a surgeon who loved reading, who loved reading to Chief, who didn't necessarily understand Chief's career choices but supported her nonetheless, who helped Chief start a savings account for her daughter's college. I was living vicariously through her stories, blissfully, until she said, "He's a wonderful man, who I must end things with."

"What?!" I nearly leaped out of my seat. "Because of Ella?" Her daughter.

She sighed. "You don't know me well enough, but I'll corrupt him, Max. I'll break him, snap him like a stick, emotionally. He's too pure, too good." She sighed again. "Too good for me."

I suddenly wanted to knock my head against hers, and the thought made me smile. "You should tell him," I suggested.

She'd already considered, I could tell. "Wouldn't it be better to just leave him then to give him an opportunity to leave me?"

"If you're scared of him walking away, well, I've never pegged you to be the type to run away from fear. Plus, shouldn't you give Nathan the benefit of the doubt? I don't think it's fair to assume you'll mess him up. I imagine if you told him this, he'd tell you he's stronger than you'd think."

I could see she was considering my words, and I began to feel silly for giving Chief advice, especially when my own love life was as good as dirt, so I shrugged and laughed to lighten the mood. "Then again, what do I know?"

But something changed between Chief and I that day, as if all of our previous conversations had been through the phone with a glass wall between us, like people might do visiting someone in jail, but today, we heard each other's real voice, saw each other's face clearly without the panel for the first time. And Chief was no longer just Chief, but my friend.

So I wasn't surprised at all when she wanted to talk about Nathan. But I was jaw-dropping shocked that Nathan had proposed. We hadn't had an opportunity for any follow-up discussions, which meant I had no idea what my advice meant to her and might've assumed she'd ended things like she originally planned.

"Well, did you say yes?" I must've taken steps towards her because I found myself gripping her hands with excitement.

She was breathing hard, her eyes so wide I thought her eyeballs would roll onto the floor. Then, slowly, she nodded, and I was throwing my arms around her before I could stop myself, and she was squeezing me hard.

"Thank you, Max."

I was breathing hard now, too, amazed at how caught up in the excitement I could be. My heart was hammering my chest with joy.

"For what?" I knew, but I wanted hear it nonetheless.

"For…" she paused, looking for the right words. "Being my friend. For pushing me to do the right thing and not… self-sabotage." She laughed freely. "Max, will you be my bridesmaid?"

I scoffed. "As if I could say no."


End file.
